It's Only a Matter of Time
by TheMockingbird27
Summary: "Peter will love Lara Jean with all his heart, always." Sometimes, as she finds, that may just not be enough. In which the circumstances of life throw them hurdles that they couldn't get over. The distance, the injury, the past. But also, sometimes, the universe sends you the the person for you at the wrong time and you're left to catch up. But you will. It's only a matter of time.
1. Chapter 1

I'd always thought I'd end up with my first love. Only I'd never realized that at some point, people fall out of love. They choose not to love someone anymore. And I can go on and on about how some people make it work. That some people make it. But you don't want to hear about all the fairytale romances that I'd read before. Because this is real now. Peter Kavinsky fell out of love with Lara Jean Song Covey. Those are the facts.

At least, that's what I tell myself to keep my sanity.

But my mind still lingers on the holding of hands, and late night kisses, and good morning texts of a really sweet first romance. But not anymore. The new year is coming up, and I will be objective about this.

It's the only way I'll survive this heart break.

We'd promised that we would always tell the truth, no matter how hard it was. But he never told me when he started to fall out of love with me. I didn't have time to prepare my heart for it. I suppose it was when finals came around first semester of freshman year and he got so busy with lacrosse and studying that there was just no time to write letters every week and phone calls every night. Only I'd been too naive to see the truth back then.

It's the winter in between first and second semester of sophomore year and I'm sitting in the kitchen, watching Kitty and Margot try to bake my signature chocolate chip cookie. It's kind of funny, if I'm being honest, watching them fight over the flour cup and watching the white dust float through the air and stick to their faces.

I don't know why my mind had drifted to him. It always had. I guess it's true when they say first loves never die. There is a chip in my heart that I had cut out and given to the most handsome boy of all the handsome boys.

The Song Covey family unit is complete again and it's like nothing has changed at all. Dad and Trina are both at work. She still spills coffee all over herself in the morning, but sadly, we no longer do the countdown. I guess we just grew up one day. Even Kitty.

Her and Peter aren't friends anymore. Not after the way things ended between us.

I always get emotional when I think of him. And now that I have, I need to excuse myself to the comfort of my old, messy room.

It's filled with photos of him and I and I suddenly regret coming home for the break. It's so weird because at one point, that was all I'd wanted. I decide what I need is to get out of the house. Do anything.

I drive to the grocery store because I figure we'd need more flour after they're done baking. The sun shines bright on this winter day and the chilly air permeates the car as I drive.

I see him before he sees me. He's with his mom too, pushing around the shopping cart by the produce section. So naturally, I grab a little rack full of candy bars to hide myself with. Only I didn't realize it had wheels and found myself almost toppled over by the cart as I try but fail to steady it. It falls to the floor with a loud thunk and my cheeks burn a fiery red. Everyone is staring at me. Including him.

Slowly I pick up the candies off the floor and place them back on the rack. Everyone else turns away. But he doesn't. Neither does his mom. Peter whispers something to his mom and she pats him on the back and suddenly he's walking towards me.

I was not ready for this. Obviously.

I feel like I want to cry but no tears come out. Thank goodness.

I finish putting the chocolates and candies on the cart when he reaches me.

"Lara Jean," he says my name in a whisper.

"Hey Peter…," I trail off. I don't know what to do with my hands so I just pull my ponytail tighter so much so that it hurts my scalp. A wave of self hatred engulfs me as I notice my heart beat a little faster, and my breathing quickens. I wave my hands in the air as I awkwardly say, "It's good to see you. I hope you're doing well and all that jazz. Well, I gotta go, so…, see ya!"

"I'm back together with Gen. I just thought that you should hear it from me instead." I'd always known that they'd find their way back to each other. I guess I was just a placeholder. Hearing him say it out loud makes it so real that my heart breaks all over again.

I can only stare back at him with wide eyes, hoping that I didn't hear what he just said. "Good for you, Peter Kavinsky." I smile up at him but I feel like I'm going to puke. He got a lot taller. "Really, I'm happy for you." But a part of me knew it. And I think that's the saddest thing of all. "I should go…, see you around Peter Kavinsky," I say and I hate how my voice wobbles and I can't meet his eyes.

He watches me as I leave and says, "Wait, Lara Jean…"

I pretend not to hear him and walk out the door.

I don't even buy the flour.

* * *

When I get home, I run upstairs to my room before I get any questions from Margot or Kitty. I slam my door shut and that's when the tears come out. I try to be as quiet as possible and a flood of memories hits me in the stomach.

" _Hey, Lara Jean?" Peter asks through the speaker on my phone. It's almost been an entire semester apart, and it hasn't been the easiest. We both upheld the contract, and that's all that mattered to me._

" _Yeah?"_

" _I've just got so much going on right now with finals and lacrosse. I don't think I can do letters every week. I'm really sorry Lara Jean, but I think maybe I should stop just for now." He sounds contrite but at the lack of my response, he quickly says, "Just for now though. I promise that we'll get back to it someday."_

 _I hesitate, but then say, "Well, okay. I love you, Peter."_

" _Love you too."_

 _And that was that._

 _But only, isn't this how it starts? With each person pulling away a little bit at a time, because it's only a little bit, what harm could it do? And soon enough the little pieces add up to a really big chunk of the relationship that's already gone. Then we can't catch up to it, and find it again. But I brush that thought off. We're Lara Jean and Peter. We can be the exception._

At least, that's what I told myself at the time. But everyone thinks that they can be the exception. And we're no exception. Just a statistic now.

" _You did everything you could, Peter."_

 _He stands up violently and I worry that he's going to hit his knee on the coffee table and make it worse. "That's exactly what I mean. I did everything I could, I did everything! I still can't do it. And I'm so fucking sick of all this."_

 _Peter hadn't come out of his room for a few days. The doctor didn't clear him, and I don't know what to say that can fix this, that can make it all better, and I feel like a failure. "Peter, you're going to get through this. It's going to be okay." I hate that I'm saying this because I know it doesn't help._

" _Bullshit," he dismisses. "Everyone keeps saying that and it's bullshit. You wouldn't understand Lara Jean."_

" _I just wanted to…," I trail off._

 _Suddenly he seems ten times more angry. "What!? What!? What do you want to do? To fix me? Because I'm such a problem to you." This was so different from the confident Peter that I knew._

" _Wait, hold on-"_

" _I know, I know this is so inconvenient for you because to you, I'm sort of fucking prince charming and I'm sorry but I can't be that for you anymore. You need to grow up."_

" _I didn't mean to, I never meant to put that on you. But this isn't you and-"_

 _He sneers. "How would you know that. You just think you know everything about me, huh? We never even see each other anymore."_

 _I'm holding back a sob at this point. "I am trying my best."_

" _Well maybe that's just not enough anymore."_

We made up when he called me later, apologizing, but we didn't last much longer after that. That was our worst fight at the time. I'd visit as often as I could, but at some point I don't think he wanted me to anymore. Now that I look back. He never said it out loud, but I know now. Those last few months of freshman year were torturous. All we did was fight.

" _How could you not tell me this? How could you not tell me that you're talking to Gen again?" I almost yell at him. I don't want to sound so jealous, but it comes out that way._

" _Because it's nothing for you to worry about. She just needs me now more than ever. And she just gets it sometimes. I didn't want you to be upset, Lara Jean, come on, don't cry."_

 _I wipe my face furiously with my sleeve. I try to convince myself that I'm really over Gen and Peter, but there's always that small voice inside of me that tells me they were better together. It's screaming now. "It's not that," I say weakly. "I just…, why didn't you come to me?"_

" _You're so innocent Lara Jean. I don't want to be the one to take that away from you." His big brown eyes look so sad. I've never seen him that sad before._

 _Rage boils in my stomach. "I'm not that innocent. I understand things, but I can't if you won't let me."_

 _His shoulders slouch. He looks so defeated. "I don't know what to tell you anymore. Can we please not fight?"_

 _I sigh. I'm not angry anymore. And so I agree, and then he hugs me so tight like he's afraid I'll slip away. And then I kiss him and the taste is salty with both of our tears. I love you Peter, I want to say._

 _But I don't._

And then he broke up with me.

 _Tears are streaming down my face and I'm trying not to sob. I take back what I said then. This was our worst fight._

" _Peter, this isn't you. I know you. You're better than this," I plead with him._

 _He isn't having it. His knee is a lot better now and he paces the room, unable to look at me. "I'm not that fucking prince charming anymore. I grew up. You should too."_

" _I don't want to fight with you."_

 _He scoffs at me. "So we're just supposed to just sweep it under the rug? I don't want to do that anymore. I'm done with this shit."_

" _What are you saying. After everything we fought for, you're saying it's over?"_

 _He hesitates for a second. And my heart hopes he won't say it. But he does. "Yeah. Why don't you just take everything and shove it into your little hat box. I played my part in this fairytale of yours. Sorry I couldn't give you a happy ending," he says with sarcasm laced in his words._

" _What happened to "Peter will love Lara Jean with all his heart, always"? Did you just not mean everything you've ever said to me?" I manage to get out._

 _There's a knock at the door. Peter gives me a glance before going to open it. I look over and I see Genevieve. I must be hallucinating. There are tears in her eyes too. And I suddenly realize that there's nothing I can do. I've always been second to Gen. I just fooled myself into thinking I wasn't for a second there. And that feeling I decide, is the worst feeling in the whole wide world._

 _And so I push past her and keep running._

 _Goodbye Peter Kavinsky._

The memory of it is ingrained into the crevices of my brain, always hiding so that I can't get rid of it.

I hear a knock on my door. It's Margot and Kitty. They take one look at me and engulf me and I've never cried harder. I am controlled by body shaking sobs and weak limbs.

"Oh LJ," Margot whispers into my ear. "We're right here. It'll be okay." I find it funny that when I say it, the words come out empty, but when I'm in the arms of my sisters, I've never felt more loved and supported.

Well, almost.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: This is a Covinsky story, and I know Peter is OOC but there's a reason for it and I want to see where this story takes me. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

I lie down, with my head in Margot's lap and Kitty sits beside her, rubbing my shoulder.

"Gogo, it's really over." I sniffle. I'm not bawling anymore and I'll take what I can get. "I don't think this is Peter. I really don't. Something must've happened."

"Well even if that's true, that doesn't excuse how badly he treated you," Margot says in her matter of fact voice.

A fresh wave of tears sprout from my eyes as I say to Kitty, "I'm sorry Kitty."

She just grabs my hand and says, "It's not your fault."

But in some ways, it is my fault. I am not completely without blame. I smothered him and I always questioned about what he would talk about with Gen. I am jealous of her. That she's able to find her way back to him, that she understands him better than I do. And I think that's why I stopped calling him every night.

I have my sisters, but who does Peter have? He only has Gen, and I couldn't accept that. I'm sorry.

Kitty gets up. "I'll be right back." The place where she sat is still warm. She comes back with a bowl and a spoon full of ice.

"Deja vu, huh?" says Margot.

I snort, and they both grab a spoon and press it on to my eyes.

"You could do this yourself, you know," Kitty says to me. She fakes a sigh and massages her wrist as if she's tired.

"You know Kitty, maybe someday we'll be doing this for you," I shoot back with the tiniest of smiles.

"Yeah, no thanks. I'm not falling in love anytime soon. The Goddess within says that relationships while young are frivolous and disrupts the sacred rhythm of womanhood."

Oh Kitty. I hope we never have to press cold spoons to your eyes, is what I think before I drift off into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

I wake up to the smell of homemade cookies. I manage to trudge my way down to the kitchen.

"Lara Jean, you're up! How was your nap?" Dad asks me. The smile reaches his eyes so I know that he still doesn't know.

"It was good."

Kitty comes to the kitchen as well and greets me with a hug. "We saved some cookies for you, we're watching Golden Girls."

I gasp in fake horror. "Without me?"

"My niceness has been all used up already. Please come again in two to three business days while we refill."

I roll my eyes but I'm glad inside. I wouldn't want Kitty to stop being Kitty just because I wasn't me anymore.

We end up finishing two seasons before I go upstairs to clean myself up.

I'm fiddling with the locket while I look in the mirror. I can't live like this anymore. I will not fall apart, just because he left. I take it off and put it in my jewelry chest before ridding myself of all things Peter. Photos, notes, sweatshirts, jerseys. Even the old romance novels. They all go into a box. I guess it's taken me a long time because Daddy comes in and sits on my chair.

"You're cleaning again."

Having found a renewed sense of purpose, I say, "Of course."

"Do you want to talk about what happened? You know, with you and Peter? Should I be worried?"

"No and only if you find me in the backyard circling a fire that's burning all this," I joke to lighten the mood.

"Very funny," he deadpans.

"Catharsis is no laughing matter," I say as seriously as I can.

He sits up and looks around the room, and suddenly he says, "Let's go to the diner."

This time, I drive. We pull into the parking lot of the Corner Cafe and I unbuckle my seatbelt but before I am able to get out of the car, he stops me.

"You know Lara Jean. I saw the two of you way back at Thanksgiving. And I think Peter really changed after the injury. Not that he didn't love you anymore because I think I know Peter well enough to tell that, but I'd never seen him look so unsure and defeated."

I sigh. I guess we're going to talk about this after all. "I know Daddy. I saw it too. I thought I was doing what was best for him by being by his side all the time, but looking back, I don't think I understood how crushing that must have been. Or how tired he was with everything, including me." All I can do right now is to stare at the dashboard. I am not going to cry anymore.

"You know, things between your mom and I weren't always perfect. We separated for a while back there…, we didn't know what to do when she got a job in San Francisco and I wanted to stay here in Virginia. You're mother's always been a realist, you know with the whole notion of don't go to college with a boyfriend. And so she didn't think that it was a good idea to stay together."

"So how did you get over it?" I question, my hopeless romantic mind taking over.

"We didn't for a while there, you know. We lost touch for a few years. But she came back. Not just for me. I guess, she didn't like it out there as much as she thought she would, so she came back. And it was like she was never gone."

"So that's it? Love can't beat circumstance?" I say with a tinge of bitterness in my voice. And I hate myself for it. Because Daddy doesn't deserve that.

"I don't know, maybe. But I think that if it was meant to be, then the right circumstances will follow."

I give him a melancholy smile. "I don't think Peter and I are meant to be, at least, not anymore."

"But neither were your mother and I. Not anymore I mean. I think maybe sometimes meant to be doesn't have to last forever. All we can do is remember it. I don't want you to spend your time at home crying, Lara Jean."

I lean back. I look down at my lap and we just stay there for a while in silence. And suddenly, I start to smile. I look back up at him and he's smiling right back. "Is there a reason we had to do all this in the car in the middle of winter?"

He gives me a sheepish shrug. "Sorry. I got ahead of myself there…, let's go get some hot chocolate. Sugar is the best medicine."

I completely agree.

* * *

The next morning, I'm in a groggy haze because it's 5:00 a.m. in the morning and the only reason I'm up is because Gogo bribed her to be nice to me only if I made snickerdoodles. The little trickster. I set up all the ingredients and soon enough, I'm halfway done. I'm measuring the flour when I hear the sound of our mailbox screeching. It's really rusty and I feel sorry for our poor mailman.

I go outside to greet him and he waves at me before getting into his truck. I brace myself and lift up the mailbox that sounds like cats scratching a chalkboard, and flick through them.

They're mostly bills, but the last one catches my attention. It's a letter, from John Ambrose McClaren. My eyes widen a bit and I'm suddenly no longer sleepy. I eye it suspiciously. We haven't spoken since beach week, senior year. I don't either of us really knew what to say to each other, and we were both so busy with other stuff, that we just forgot each other. I wish we didn't. I should've tried to maintain the friendship. Because now he's just another person I lost.

I tear open the letter with my flour covered hands.

Dear Lara Jean,

It's been a while, hasn't it. I guess we should've kept in touch. It might make this a little less awkward….

I'm transferring from William and Mary to UNC next semester and I was wondering if maybe you would want to catch up over a coffee? Only if you want to though.

I hope you're doing well. I guess that's all I have to say.

Yours,

John Ambrose McClaren

I can almost imagine John writing this with that boyish grin of his. Even though he's in university now, there are still little parts of the boy who never laughed at Trevor when he ripped his pants playing basketball. He'll always be like that I suppose. It's what makes him so endearing.

I stare at the letter for quite some time. John Ambrose McClaren. The biggest what if in my life. But I think he was right. We never got the timing right. Neither did Peter and I.

Dear John Ambrose McClaren,

It really has been a while. I really wish we'd kept in touch too. Not because it might be awkward now but because you're the kind of person worth keeping in touch with.

I would love to meet for coffee next semester. Does the first day back sound good to you?

I hope you're doing well too. It'll be nice to see you soon.

Yours,

Lara Jean.

Soon enough, the holidays end and I'm back at UNC. I'm currently sitting in a little cafe by the campus, waiting for John Ambrose McClaren to walk through the door. It's late into the afternoon and I'm early I want to see him before he sees me.

I find a seat in the corner and I'm pulling out my book that I'm supposed to read for English Lit when he walks in. The cold air breezes past and I suddenly wish I'd ordered without him so I'd have something to keep my hands warm.

His cheeks are red from the winter wind and he's a little taller from when I last saw him. He takes off his hat and gloves and scans the room. His eyes land on mine. He smiles. I didn't know it, but I missed that same boyish grin he had when I gave him that chocolate peanut butter cake with his name written out in Reese's pieces. He walks towards me and I stand up. I give him a bear hug and I try not to notice that he smells like pine and fresh soap. Just like he did when he was little. I let him go and we sit down.

"Lara Jean," he says with a wistful smile. "I have to admit, you've grown taller."

I smile back at him. "I hope that's a compliment."

He chuckles. "Of course it is. I don't think anyone can insult Lara Jean Song-Covey. She's too sweet for that."

I wrinkle my nose at him and fiddle with my phone on the table. "So how are you?"

"I've been good. How have you been?"

I shrug. "I've been good too."

"This is weird isn't it," he laughs.

I raise my eyebrow at him. "You saying that makes it ten times more weird."

"Hey, I don't see your attempt at making things less weird. So it's fair to say, the blame is on both of us. But more so you because you noticed that it was ten times more."

"What? No way, you caused it."

He smirks. "But you brought it up, therefore making it a problem. I rest my case."

"Oh so you're going to be a big lawyer someday," I tease. He would make a great one. And suddenly I imagine the man that he'll be someday, wearing a suit everyday to work to stop injustice. But I hope he'll still be John Ambrose.

"Guilty as charged." He flashes me a smile, showing his teeth.

I roll my eyes. "Very funny. That's amazing though. Wow. John Ambrose McClaren, the lawyer."

"If I can make it through undergrad," he jokes.

"I know you John Ambrose. If there's anyone who can do it, it's you."

"Are you two going to order or what, 'cause other people are waiting for your seats."

My face goes red. I still feel like a teenager who always gets scolded. "Oh sorry, of course." We both go up to the counter and order tea with sugar. I do it because it reminds me of home and Night Night tea, but John does it because he's just that sophisticated.

I sneak a glance at him while we're walking to our seats. "Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," I quote. Margot and I discovered it during the break and I think it comes second just to Sixteen Candles.

His smile gets wider, but I can't tell if it reaches his eyes or not because he looks away.

Weird.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hey guys. I hope you've enjoyed it so far. I do make some references to the book, so if the lines are similar, it all goes to Jenny Han, including the characters (except for the ones I invent). I really hope you like it. Oh and by the way. I've updated the the previous chapters because I realize I didn't copy and paste everything so it might have been a bit confusing. Sorry about that.

* * *

I settle into the routine of the semester. When I was younger, Mommy would always wake us up early because "that's when the brain works best", and so I signed up for mostly morning classes. Every Friday night, I video chat with Margot over dinner and every Sunday night I call Kitty and Daddy.

There's one more thing though. I haven't told Margot or Kitty yet, but on Saturday nights, I meet up with John at that cafe and go through the list of drinks that they have. This time, I'm running late. I'm shoving books and folders into my bag while walking across the street to the small building. My cheeks are flushed as I enter and if I had glasses, they'd be foggy for sure. He's sitting in that same corner that day we met. I walk towards him but then my not-so-eloquently-shoved-in-books fall out of the bag and I almost trip. He gets up and comes over to help me. I try to ignore the annoyed customers that are behind me while we pick up my books. Awkwardly, I pat his shoulder and say, "Thank you…"

"Well, wouldn't want you falling for anyone else." He nudges me with his elbow as we walk to our usual seat. I laugh but the sound is foreign to my ears. I don't think he meant that literally, right? We're in such a good place right now as friends and he's over what he felt for me before.

For some reason, that makes me feel weird inside. But I shrug it off to the what ifs. I want to appear confident, but my smile is shy when I say, "Wouldn't want Dipti to hear that, now would you?"

"Oh. Um…, we're actually not together anymore?" he phrases like a question as he scratches the back of his head and his cheeks go pink.

"Oh, why'd you say it like that?" I mentally slap myself for being so insensitive. Why am I even allowed to speak. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"No, it's okay. It was just the whole distance thing. You know how it is."

I swallow. "Not anymore."

"Oh sorry to hear that." He looks away.

I muster up the best smile I can and say, "No need to be sorry John Ambrose."

He looks me in the eye and he's not grinning anymore. His blue eyes are intent and he just… looks at me. And just like when he read my letter, I feel naked. The only thing I can do is to look away.

It feels like ages pass by, when really, it's a few minutes. I don't know what to talk about. Anything I say could push us off the tightrope we've been walking.

"We don't have to talk about it, you know," he finally says. "And if I'm really honest, I don't know what to say that'll make this better which is hard for me because I usually always have the right words, but I can always sit with you for however long you want. That's what my Mom and I did whenever I was sad."

"You'd just sit there?" I ask. This seems like safer territory. My heart fills with something bittersweet.

"Yeah. Usually on the sofa. She'd put her arm around me and that's all it took to feel like I could move past whatever I was going through."

"You know, my Dad and I would go to the Corner Cafe and play this song on the jukebox that my Mom used to love. She'd always dance to it." I look down at my lap. Maybe I can call Daddy later tonight.

One side of his mouth quirks up. "I don't have anything jukebox worthy, but I think I have an idea." He pulls out his phone and scrolls through it. His eyes light up as them meet mine again. The familiar saxophone of _Careless Whisper_ plays. Some customers look at us and I start to blush. "Dance with me, Lara Jean," he says, getting up and swaying to the music. And it's the way he says my name that makes me want to get up and do it too.

"Very funny. Why is that even on your playlist?" I say instead while laughing.

"No reason." he blushes. "Come on, Lara Jean, you know how much I can't dance. I'm making an exception for this very special occasion." He nods seriously.

"And what's that?" I play along.

"That we made it to today." And he smiles a genuine John Ambrose McClaren smile.

I feel brave at the thought. "Only if you change the song."

John playfully rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine. So demanding."

"It's not demanding. I call it 'particularly selective.'"

He laughs. "And you claim you're an English major, Ms. Redundancies."

My cheeks warm. My professor said the same thing about my essay. "Shush, you. Just pick a different song."

He thinks for a moment, and then his eyes light up and he types something rapidly into his phone. _I Had the Time of My Life_ starts playing. He sets the phone on the table and drags me to an open spot.

We try to recreate the dance from _Dirty Dancing_ , but fail miserably. My laughter echoes his as he spins me around and around. I almost forget to feel dizzy. At the end, he tries to lift me up like Johnny lifted Baby, but it ends up being just like how he picked me up and spun me around at the USO party at Belleview so long ago.

We're so out of breath when we finish and everyone claps for us. My heart flutters at the sight of John looking so happy.

 _What if I had picked you?_ pops into my head and I banish it quickly. I wouldn't trade what I had with Peter for the world.

He gives me a look that I can't quite read. It's like he's reading my mind, but I can't seem to read his. So we pack up and he walks me to my dorm.

"I had a lot of fun," he admits.

"Yeah, me too." I feel like I'm floating. Before I can even think about it, I'm on my tip toes and I kiss him on the cheek quickly.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because you've always been John Ambrose McClaren," I get out breathlessly. "Good night."

He's probably blushing as hard as I am. "Good night Lara Jean."

I close my door and lean back against it. It's really cold in the dorm because the heat's broken, but I feel warm enough inside.

* * *

When I tell Margot everything, she just says, "Are you sure he's not in love with you?"

"Yeah, of course I'm sure. Why would I not be sure?" I sputter out.

She gives me a smug look. "I don't know Lara Jean…," she drags out. At my glare, she loses the look and becomes more Margot-like. She says, "Come on Lara Jean, you can't deny that there's nothing between you two."

I think about it for a moment. Would John have kissed me if I'd stayed longer at my door? Would I have let him? "I don't know Margot." I take in a deep breath and admit to Margot what I didn't have the courage to admit to myself. "I miss Peter."

Margot was always the sage one out of all three of us. She didn't always have the answer, but she'd always make us feel better. "Lara Jean, you're going to miss him for a while. I think you're first love always changes you for the better, whether you realize it or not."

I look down at the keyboard of my computer. "It's just that I think that in some ways, Gen was always there. He got back together with her, so, I don't know, maybe he was never really over her? He just got good at hiding it."

"Don't do that Lara Jean. Don't discount the good. I think he really did love you. But I also think he's and idiot for ever letting you go and going back to Gen."

I don't know. If he ever belonged to me, it was the Peter in that moment. Not the Peter that changes or grows up. No, that Peter, belongs to Genevieve. She was right too. He will never love anyone, as much as he loves her. "Gogo…," I whimper.

"I know. But do you remember what Mommy said?" she asks.

I sniffle. "That you shouldn't go to college with a boyfriend?"

"Yes that, but also, you don't want to be the girl crying about her boyfriend, and saying no to things when you really want to say yes."

She was right. I remember Margot saying this to me when she first broke up with Josh. I never thought I'd be the one who got left. But it's still a story about Mommy, and despite every little or no-so-little heartbreak, she is my biggest one.

And that's why I listen to Margot. To keep her with me.

* * *

When I get the phone call, it's 2:00 a.m. on Saturday and I'm almost finished the readings that my professor assigned. I'm half asleep, so I jolt awake at the sound and yawn. The screen flashes his name. I don't know if I should pick it up. I don't really know the rules. While I'm silently debating, the phone stops ringing, much to my relief. I decide to go to bed.

I can't sleep though. When I think of Peter now, I think that maybe the time we spent together was just a detour from the road to who he is truly meant to be with. I do believe he really loved me at some point though. But there's just something about first loves that you never quite forget. Like it has the power to bleed into all your other relationships. I know I'll always hold a piece of Peter with me, even when I fall in love again. I guess sometimes you get lucky enough to be with your first love forever, but sometimes you don't. I just wasn't one of them.

The phone rings again, this time my roomate, Mellie (short for Amelia) stirs. She grumbles a bit and mumbles something about how she should've chosen to room alone. She kind of reminds me of Chris when she tries to drag me to parties and out to bars with her friends. She tells me I remind her of her grandma. I seem to get that a lot.

Not wanting to wake her, I go tiptoe to the hallway and answer the call. "Hello?" I whisper into the darkness. But I hear the booming sound of music coming from big speakers, and the loud chatter of people nearby.

"Lara Jean?" he slurs. His voice is so low that I think he's about to fall asleep.

"Peter? Are you okay?" Despite everything, I still worry about him.

The noise gets quieter and quieter. He hasn't said anything for a while now but I keep on the line anyway. There are words on the tip of my tongue that I want to say because I know he won't remember it by the morning, but I don't say anything. And I don't know why. I just listen to the sound of his breathing as he walks. Soon enough, I can't hear anything at all.

"Lara Jean?" he says again like he's afraid that I've already hung up.

"Yes Peter?" I try to keep my voice as neutral but I end up sounding too eager to hear what he has to say."

"I'm sorry." he cries out. "I'm so fucking sorry…" he keeps talking but I'm not listening anymore. I don't I've ever heard him cry before. He sounds so… broken. I've never known Peter like this and I don't really want to anymore. But he's sorry. He's so fucking sorry.

And that's all I really wanted to hear.


	4. Chapter 4

Happy New Year! Thank you to all who have commented, or favorited, or even just read the story. I'm so grateful for all of you and I hope you have a wonderful year. Here's chapter 4, hope you enjoy!

* * *

I just stand there with my phone to my ear. At some point he stops talking and _it's too late_ balances on the tip of my tongue, teetering, but never falling out into the real world.

"Lara Jean? Are you still there?" he says, slurring his words. He sniffles. "Please still be there."

I breathe in deeply. "Yes Peter, I'm still here." My tone is flat, which is just the way I want it to be.

"Can you stay with me, please? On the phone, I mean."

"I don't know, Peter." Part of me wants to, but the other part of me says that I didn't deserve what he did to me so why should I? But that's the thing, isn't it? No matter how much you convince yourself that you want to say no, you really want to say yes. Because it'll be different this time.

But it won't. And you should know that by now.

I pinch the bridge of my nose to keep the tears in. I've cried enough already. I probably look gross and I really wish I had a tissue.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he whispers.

And then I realize. "Yes you did. You knew exactly what you were doing and what would happen. The only thing I don't know is why. So enlighten me, Peter." The words feel foreign as they roll off my tongue. This Lara Jean feels angry, and bold enough to say something like that. And I don't think I like her very much. So I take a breath, and I soften. "I just want to know why. Why'd you give up on us?"

"Because I…, Because…, I don't know." Words fail him.

"You don't know? That's all you have to say? " My voice is strained and wobbly.

"I can fix this," he says with determination. It doesn't come out slurred or tired or annoyed, just…, determined.

"There's nothing you can say to change any of this." I look up to the ceiling, my vision blurred again. "Go home Peter."

"I know you're hurt and angry and you have every right to be, but-"

"How would you know that, we haven't seen each other in months.," I throw his words back at him. "You don't know me anymore. And I don't know you anymore," I say with a tinge of sadness in my voice.

"I didn't mean that. I didn't mean any of it. I was in pain, and I didn't think about what I was doing, who I was hurting." He sniffles and then takes a deep breath in. "I'm humiliated." I can feel him holding in sobs. "I didn't want you to see me that way, Lara Jean."

"You didn't think that I'd love you no matter what?"

"I knew you would…," he says with a crack in his voice. "But I lost my scholarship, Lara Jean. I was about to become this college dropout with no idea what to do in the future and no plan B." My eyes widen and I flinch at his words.

"What?"

"I almost lost everything. And I didn't know what to do and I took that out on you, and I'm so sorry."

I don't pinch my nose anymore. I just let the tears fall freely. They drip off my chin and onto the floor, and I can see the carpet growing wetter and wetter. "I didn't know." Suddenly, I feel a wave of nausea pass over me. There's a war in my stomach. "How could I not have known?"

And he says three simple words that explain everything. The tension, the fights, the break up. "I never told you. I'm so sorry."

I muster up all the courage I have inside of me to say what I'm about to say. Because I know if I say it, it's not just his heart I'm breaking.

"Maybe that's just not enough anymore."

And this time, I hang up on him.

I go back inside and put my hand over my mouth to muffle the sobs. I crouch, with my back leaning against the door.

"Lara Jean?" a groggy voice comes through the darkness. Mellie turns on the light and walks towards me. "What happened? Are you okay?" She crouches down too, and puts her arm around me.

"It's P-P-Peter." I get out.

When I first met Mellie, I'd never thought that we would become friends. I don't even know now. She's my friend, but I don't know if I'm hers. I think that's one of the worst feelings to have. At some point in between delegating chores and listening to each other cry over the phone, I understood. And I think she did too. I remember the first time I cried over Peter, she told me all about how she and and her boyfriend would fight a lot as well. That so much of loving him, was fighting with him, that she started to question whether it was really worth it or not.

" _Maybe it's when you stop fighting, that it's over," I say as if I'm still wide-eyed and hopeful that Peter will call me back and everything would be fine._

" _Maybe. But my point is, if it ever gets to that point, you should know that you deserve better." She presses her lips together and tilts her head to the side. "I don't know your whole story with Peter, remember what I said? You know, how my mom always told me never to cry over a boy." When she was little, Mellie's dad had left, in order to have a family with someone else. She told me this when she and her boyfriend had their first fight and she forced herself to stop crying._

 _I look down at my lap. I'd always thought that I got really lucky with Daddy because he made our family feel whole after Mommy died, and now whenever I think of what Mellie said, I call Daddy. I wish things had been different for her. But she says that things happen the way they do for a reason._

 _I'd always thought that things that were meant to be will always find their way back to each other._

 _But maybe she's right._

She doesn't tell me not to cry tonight.

She just rubs my shoulder until I stop shaking so much. Then, she gets up and comes back with a box of tissues.

"Thanks."

She hesitates for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. There's nothing to say." It's like all the love has run out, and the ocean is drained.

"There's always something to say, LJ."

I dry my face with tissues but it feels like it's no use. I get up and offer a hand to help her. "I think I just need time. Thank you for waking up at this hour just to talk to me."

She nudges my shoulder with hers. " I did this for purely selfish reasons. Wouldn't want to live with a mopey Lara Jean." I give her a small smile for the effort.

We separate to our own sides of the room. I pull the blanket up to my chin just like the way Mommy would when I was little and couldn't sleep. We'd finish the Night Night tea and she'd pick me up in her arms and tuck me in. When I got older we'd have tea together but I'd said that I didn't need to be tucked in anymore. And so she didn't.

Now, I would give anything for her to do it again.

I close my eyes, and all I can see is Peter. Him driving me and Kitty to school, him putting his hand in my back pocket, him kissing me in the treehouse until I am breathless, him at the wedding, and finally, him sitting somewhere alone calling a Lara Jean who used to think the world of him. Only he didn't get that Lara Jean.

I get up, head over to my desk, and I do what I do best. I write another love letter. And I hold nothing back. Because Mellie was right, there's always something to say.

Dear Peter,

I've always believed in the fairytale romance. Love at first sight, first loves lasting forever, and soul mates. I hoped to find someone who could be that for me. And for that, I'm truly sorry. Because you're not prince charming, Peter. You're just Peter, and I should have just loved Peter, the boy. I didn't mean to push that on to you but maybe it did anyway. Maybe, despite you doing everything you can do to avoid something happening, it decides that it must happen anyway because you can't fight fate. Just like how I fell in love with you.

And despite everything, I still love you. I could never bring myself to hate you no matter how hard I try. But sometimes loving someone is just not enough, right? That's what you taught me. And I will always remember it. At some point, even before the letters stopped I knew you didn't love me as much as I loved you. Love you. And that's the only reason I can think of that explains why you gave up. When we said that we'd risk it all, I held nothing back from that point on. But you did, Peter. You did.

You're with Gen now, and I know you don't hold back with her. Because she just gets it. She's not innocent little Lara Jean who still thinks princes exist and happily ever after can happen. I thought that was what you loved about me. I suppose I was wrong.

I don't believe you when you say that you aren't better than this. I know the Peter Kavinsky who would drive my little sister and me to school every day, who set up Sixteen Candles scene for me, who would write me a letter every week when we started college. That'll always be a part of you. If only I could tell you this. If only you would believe it.

I would have loved you despite everything, Peter. Because that's the thing about love. It never gives up. And I may not have been able to help you or save you, but I would've tried. To me, that's all that matters. It's that you try, Peter.

So here we are. A billion worlds apart. And all I can think of, is how much I love you, and how much I'm going to love you for the rest of my life. It'll be less and less every day, but it will always be there. And that's okay. Because we had our time, and we have our proof that we loved each other. I would spend the rest of my life trying to figure out why, but I won't because don't I deserve better than that? Don't I deserve to move on?

It's too late for us now. Maybe we could have made it if you had said something, anything, but you didn't. It's all gone now. Because when I write, I know it's goodbye. I'm not just putting a bow on everything we've been through though. I will cherish what we had forever.

Do you remember the treehouse Peter? I hope you do, because it was where you first told me you loved me. Where we first became real. We'll probably never see each other again in this lifetime but I hope you know that that was my favorite moments of all the moments we had together.

I love you Peter Kavinsky, the boy who has my heart wholly, truly, completely.

Love,

Lara Jean

The page is wet with my tears and already, some of the ink is smudging off. I open my drawer to find an envelope. It's nothing fancy like the envelope I used for my first letter to him, but it'll have to do. I seal it and shove it in my bag.

I don't address it this time.


End file.
